Her Eyes (Rewritten)
by WrittenAnonymous
Summary: "You don't want to do this. You don't want me to do this." "I do," she swore. "You don't get to tell me what I want and what I don't want. I know what I want." Scorpius swallowed as she unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "What if I don't want to?" She smiled, cocking her head to the side. His knees nearly gave out. "That's bullshit," she said. She was right. As always.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in this about HP or JKR is not mine. The whole thing is basically**

**about HP or JKR, so none of it is mine. Thanks for reading.**

**Her Eyes _(Rewritten)_**

**Chapter One:**

**Rose Weasley:**

"Rose," Dominique's voice interrupted Rose's thoughts. Rose tried to ignore her. "_Rose. _Rose? Rosie?"

"_What?"_ she demanded, glaring up at her from her Potions assignment. Dominique smiled angelically, flipping her silky blonde hair over her shoulder. Rose loved Dominique. She really, truly did. Just not right now. She had been trying to get this Potions assignment done for the past two hours, and every time she began to focus, her lovely cousin would decide it was time to start up a conversation. Classic Dominique.

"You know Liam Heath, right?" she asked. Rose resisted the urge to groan. "He and Hollie broke up! They got into a huge fight and he called her a whore and she dumped him this morning." She waited for Rose to respond with wide eyes, and when Rose didn't she kept talking. "You know what this means, right?"

"What does it mean, Dominique?" Rose asked blandly, setting down her quill and rubbing her temples.

"It means that Liam is available, which means that-" Dominique was cut off when Albus, looking frantic, and his hair dripping with water from the rain, threw himself in the seat beside her.

"Guess what?" he asked in his I'm-a-dramatic-female voice.

Rose stared longingly at her essay, wondering if it was even worth trying to save. _Of course it is, _her inner overachiever said scoldingly. She agreed with it. Seventh year had started out a little rocky, especially in Potions. Rose didn't have a Potions partner, so she was forced to do everything on her own, which would not have been a problem if her relationship with each and every member of her family wasn't such a full time job.

"What?" I asked dully.

"Scorpius Malfoy is back," Albus said, and from the devastated glint in his bright green eyes Rose could tell that he thought this was most tragic thing to happen since the Chudley Cannons had lost the League Cup... again. So tragic, in fact, that he didn't even acknowledge the group of girls giggling at him near the staircase that led up to the girl's dormitory. Their giggling was put to a halt when the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team piled through the porthole, looking equally as crushed as Albus. They swarmed the couch that Rose's two favorite cousins were sitting on, and looked at Albus, their captain, for the guidance that they apparently needed during this horrible time.

Rose was only mildly surprised at the news. Scorpius Malfoy was going to have to return at some point, if he didn't want to repeat his seventh year. Not only that, but one can only mourn for so long. Since his father's death at the end of last year, he had not returned to school. It was early October now, so his reappearance was not entirely unexpected. Rose leaned back in the armchair that she sat in, resting her elbows on the armrests. "And?"

Rose's lack of emotion toward the whole ordeal caused an uproar from the team.

"It meansthat he will resume his captainship!" Albus said passionately, and a little too loudly. Any of the conversation in the common room that had not died down when the Quidditch team arrived came to a stop. All eyes were on Albus, the undeclared leader of the entire Gryffindor House. He had inherited the unofficial title after James had graduated the year before, and held it up dutifully.

"Albus, I don't know why you're acting like this is such a surprise-" Rose began.

"What does this mean, Al?" Hugo, Rose's brother, asked fiercely. Rose hated the position he had in the Quidditch team. Ever since Teddy Lupin, it had been tradition that the position of Gryffindor Quidditch Captain would stick to the Potter-Weasley line as closely as possible. If there were not Potter-Lupin-Weasleys available to take the position, the previous captain would choose a trustworthy individual to substitute. Albus didn't have any younger brothers, so naturally, Hugo was next in line for the captainship. He had the unofficial title of "backup Seeker," and would fill in if Albus ever got sick... or died. Rose had a feeling that even if Albus had contracted dragon pox, he'd still be up there on his broomstick.

In the meantime, Hugo played the team's bitch. He carried all their brooms and equipment around like a mule, sat on the sidelines during games incase one of the players got hurt, took the blame for any of the trouble the team got themselves into, and ran errands for them like a god damn house elf. Granted, Albus had been put through the same charade by James. _That _had been painful enough for Rose to watch. It was nearly unbearable seeing her own brother slammed to and fro like a rogue bludger.

"It means, sweet Hugo," Albus responded in a grandiose voice, standing up and turning to face all of his team mates, "that we must train harder than we ever have before. Because if I know Scorpius Malfoy, I know that he will do everything in his power to crush us this year – _especially _after what happened last spring." Rose sighed, wondering how Albus thought Scorpius's father's death had anything to do with how Scorpius would coach his team. "I hate to admit it, but we slacked off last year. We had one too many common room parties, and one too little training days. The only reason we won the cup last year is because he was gone. We lucked out." Rose also wondered how Albus could think his classmate's father's death had been lucking out.

"We need to stay vigilant," Albus declared firmly.

"Oh my god," Rose mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Dominique giggled. Nikolai McLaggen, one of the team's Chasers, winked at her suggestively.

Albus ignored them. "The Slytherins will be up our asses, just like they were last fall. They will torment us in the hallways, in the Great Hall, in our classes. They will try to beat us down. But we will rise up, just like we always do. We are Gryffindors!"

"You have got to be kidding me." Rose was about ready to chuck one of her books at his head.

Albus's voice was becoming way too loud. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the a Golden Snitch. _The _Golden Snitch. It had been the first one he caught during his captainship last year, and now it never left his possession. He let it go and it flew around his body like some domesticated house fly. Albus looked around the common room at all of his classmates. "We will need your support and your strength. Don't let the Slytherins get you down. When they do, think of us. Think of the legacy we'll leave behind." Rose was sickened by the worshipping glint in Hugo's eyes as he gazed at Albus. "Think of the look on their faces when we take the Cup at the end of the year! Think of _James._" James had been very well-loved by the Gryffindors, and Albus used his name to regain control of the house often. Rose, one of the few people who was very well acquainted wit the real Albus, knew that he struggled with having to live up to the standards James set.

As Albus spoke, excited chatter about the upcoming season filled the room. James had been famous for making these speeches, and Albus had carried on the tradition. They had been annoying when James was captain, and they were annoying now. Rose slammed the book shut that had been sitting on her lap. She stood up, rolled up her parchment, and placed it carefully in her bag. Albus continued speaking, oblivious to Rose. "We are Gryffindors," he repeated. "We are lions. Hear us roar!"

_Aaaaand, _he went there. Again.

Rose left.

…

Rose was in a foul mood. Now that any scares from the second Wizarding War had blown over, the Hogwarts students' entire world revolved around Quidditch. That's not to say Rose did not absolutely adore the sport – she did. Probably about as much as Albus did. Actually, she had been on the team since her second year, up until the end of last ear when her mother had made her quit due to dropping grades. In fact, the whole reason Rose was so upset about Albus's pep talk was that she was no longer his wingman. The two – Keeper and Seeker – had strategized together the entire year prior, and despite the "one too many common room parties," had built up a team so strong that only the Slytherins could challenge them.

Ever since she left, Rose felt completely out of the loop. Not only that, she had a suspicious that Albus was angry with her for quitting. It was not like she had a choice – her mother, to her father's extreme displeasure, had not budged on her demand. Rose had cried for days. She even went as far as asking her Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry to talk some sense into her. That had not gone over well at all. With Hermione practically yelling at the two of them for challenging her parenting styles, and Albus in the background calmly asking if they could negotiate, "because the team would go to shit without their most prized Keeper," the plan had not gone smoothly. Rose had not been allowed to leave the house for two weeks.

Things were still tense back at home. She had half the mind to just rejoin the team, but she knew that Hermione would have a fit if she found out. Actually, before she had left for school again, Ron had encouraged her to do just that, claiming that the only way Hermione would know is if Rose's grades started dropping again. It had been very tempting, and it almost felt like it would be okay since Ron had said so. But, Rose knew that Hermione would find out someway, somehow. Even though Quidditch was important – more important than most things – it wasn't more important than Rose's relationship with her mother.

Rose was nearly to the library, where she hoped to find some peace and quiet, when she heard Headmistress McGonagall's voice down the corridor. "River, please, can't you just do this for me? The boy needs guidance... I spoke with him the afternoon when he arrived and he's not doing well. I would mentor him myself, but I don't have any time. Besides, I think somebody closer to his age might be of more help." Rose, her natural snooping skills that she had developed over the past year as one of Albus's spies for the team taking over, stepped behind an oversized statue of Dobby the House Elf just outside the library door.

"Ah, Minerva..." a man's voice responded hesitantly.

The voice belonged to their new Potions professor, River Connolly. Rose had known River since she was very small; he was Teddy's best friend. It was odd having him as a professor now, especially since she had to refer to him as "Professor Connolly" when he had always just been "River_._"

"I don't know..." he continued. "Don't you think a mentor who comes from the same house as him would be a better fit?"

"What on earth are you talking about, River?" McGonagall sounded annoyed.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how competitive these students are? Their devotion to their houses is admirable, don't get me wrong – but they act like their at war with each other."

"What's your point?" McGonagall asked defensively.

"My point is that he – a Slytherin – is not going to want somebody who came from Gryffindor as a mentor, especially with how much they care about Quidditch. He's the Slytherin captain, am I right? He's going to think I'm a spy for Albus Potter."

"That is completely untrue," McGonagall said indignantly. "It sounds to me like _you're _the one with the bias, Professor Connolly. Don't think I don't remember your and Teddy Lupin's reign over Gryffindor. How do you think this ridiculous Potter-Weasley tradition started?" Rose almost rolled her eyes.

"Headmistress-" Connolly sounded sheepish.

"You _will _mentor the boy, River. He's demonstrated superb talent in Potions. Use that to connect with him."

"But Quidditch-"

"You are no longer a student here, River!" McGonagall snapped. "Quidditch is not your concern!" It took everything in Rose's power not to start laughing... McGonagall was worse than most of students when it came to Quidditch. "Maybe I should cancel the games this year... These students need a reality check- _Miss Weasley!_"

Shit.

Rose stumbled out from behind the statue, her sweetest smile plastered on her face. "Hello, Headmistress." She nodded toward River. "Professor Connolly." McGonagall was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her excuse. "I was just inspecting this statue here... You see, I'm thinking about writing an essay about the build up of dust over time on stone in comparison to wood-"

"What class is this for, Miss Weasley?" McGonagall asked suspiciously.

Connolly seemed to biting his lip to hide a grin. Rose shot him a glare before turning to McGonagall, smiling again. "Oh, just for fun," Rose said waving it away. Down the corridor, she could see the Slytherin Quidditch team round the corner. They froze. Slow grins spread across their face when they saw the former Gryffindor Keeper cornered by the Headmistress and Potions Professor.

"Yes, Miss Weasley... I'm sure you are having an excellent time researching the... _dynamics_ of dust. However, I would have thought that since your mother made you resign from the Quidditch team due to your failing grades, you would spend more time on school work and less on personal interests." The suspicions Rose had about McGonagall being disappointed in her for having to leave the team were confirmed and her stomach sank. The Headmistress glanced behind her when she heard the mumblings of the Slytherin team."I trust that you will not speak of what you have heard. Come along, Professor. I advise that you leave as well, Miss Weasley. Now that Mr. Malfoy is back, I am guessing the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is in full swing." With one more look at the Slytherins, McGonagall continued walking down the hallway, Connolly on her heels.

While McGonagall might be a righteous old bitch, she was a smart righteous old bitch. Rose hurried to the entrance of the library, waving cheerfully at the Slytherin team, and pulled open the huge wooden door. She was still looking at the team when she ran straight into someone, the side of her face coming in contact with somebody's chest. "Um, are you blind-"

Scorpius Malfoy. He had reflexively grabbed her shoulders to steady himself, but dropped his hands in arrogant disgust when he made eye contact with her. She nearly didn't recognize him. He was skinnier, and not in a good way. The lean, wiry build that most Seekers had was gone – now he looked malnourished and ill. He had dark circles under his silver-gray eyes and his platinum blond hair was too long, falling messily over his forehead. There was something behind his usual scowl that made Rose's stomach clench. "Weasley," he said stiffly.

"Malfoy," she responded, attempting to get over her shock at his physical appearance. He looked so different. Of course, the prominent Malfoy features were still there; straight nose, strong jaw, high cheek bones, almond shaped eyes with long lashes, ridiculously straight teeth. She supposed that his weightloss and obvious exhaustion weren't the only reason he looked so different. There was a serious air to him now that had never been there before. He _did _have a bit of a temper – what Malfoy didn't? – but usually that was reserved for the field. Scorpius Malfoy was known for his arrogant, witty banter and his unnecessary use of swear words. The only thing he was serious about was Quidditch and grades. Now... well, now, he looked like he had never laughed a day in his life.

He was about a head and a half taller than Rose, so she had to look up when she spoke to him. "I trust you had a good summer?"

"Hardly," he responded, glancing up at his team who were approaching them now. "I heard your summer wasn't much better. Your mother made you quit the team? That's tragic." _Yes,_ Rose thought sarcastically, _I'm sure he will lose sleep over it. _However, his eagerness to change the topic wasn't surprising. His father had just died. Why would he speak to her about his father's murder?

"A true devastation," Rose agreed, having enough respect to let him drop it. By now the team was surrounding where they stood in the doorway. So much for avoiding them.

"Who's filling in for you?" he asked casually, though Rose was almost certain he knew already.

"Lily," Rose answered, wanting to kick him when he looked smug. Or even more smug than usual. Lily Potter was to Rose what Hugo was to Albus. Every member of the team had a backup player, usually whoever was expected to take their place once they graduated – another tradition started by Teddy Lupin. "She's excellent, as you know."

"Right. Not better than you, of course?" Condescending prick.

"Of course not," Rose retorted. "Well, Malfoy," she said, deciding it was time to go before she shoved her knee into his crotch. "I'd like to say I'll see you on the field, but that's not the case this year."

"Most of us can keep up with our studies as well as Quidditch," he remarked arrogantly, blocking her way as she tried to move past him. Rose and Scorpius had competed for the top of their class since their first year. Naturally, he wouldn't let her go before shoving his knowledge of her failing grades in her face. Rose, carefully keeping her composure, smiled at him.

"Hope you'll be able to get back in the swing of things, Malfoy," she said, attempting to step around him once more. He allowed her to pass, for he had gotten his jab about her grades in. He smelled like expensive cologne, not that cheap stuff half the Gryffindor team doused themselves in when they didn't feel like showering after practice. "This is your last year to win the Quidditch Cup from us. Not that you'll be able to. If you try hard enough, maybe your honorable struggle will be enough to leave behind a lasting legacy."

Malfoy turned his head to the side, for his back was to her now. "We'll see about that." There was a small smirk on his face. _Ah, there he is, _Rose thought. It was almost a relief to see that cocky smile on his face – but also a huge pain in her ass. "Send Albus my regards."

**A/N:**

**So I guess this is sort of a rewrite for Her Eyes? Kind of? A little?**

**It's taken me a really long time to decide if I wanted to post this. It's been done for a week and I've been reading it over and over and over and sitting there like, "what the fuck happened to you, you're shit" when my writing has improved a lot from 2010/2011/whenever-Her-Eyes-was-a-thing. It's not perfect - or even good - by any means, but it's definitely better... I just can't be happy with what I'm writing anymore and I don't know what to do. I need to force myself to write and I think rewriting something might be better because it already has structure. So we shall see.**

**I don't really know yet. I really need to get out of this rut of having ideas and then losing all motivation to follow through. I know you guys want me to finish Lilium Stargazer. I know. I'm sorry. I will at some point. **

**Okay, so yes. Like I said. Sort of a rewrite for Her Eyes. I want to revisit this story mainly because I feel like I might be able to write it a lot better now. Let me know what you think. **

**I feel like you used to read my stuff because you could always count on me to update and now I have kind of let you guys down. A lot.**

**I love you all dearly, please stick with me through this whole writer's block thing.**

**Written,**

**Anonymous**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in this about HP or JKR is not mine. The whole thing is basically**

**about HP or JKR, so none of it is mine. Thanks for reading.**

**Her Eyes _(Rewritten)_**

**Chapter Two:**

**Scorpius Malfoy:**

Yes, of course Slytherin and Gryffindor would share Potions. Naturally. Fucking fantastic.

Scorpius Malfoy sauntered into his first day of Potions class, his bag slung lazily over his shoulder. Students were already seated in what he assumed was their assigned seats. He could tell that the new professor had done a pretty good job of making all their lives miserable – it appeared that Professor Connolly had made an effort to place one Slytherin and one Gryffindor together at each table, no doubt to place an emphasis on diversity. He walked to the front of the classroom, passing several familiar places as he went.

Albus Potter was turned around in his seat, straddling it so his chest was resting where his back should have been. Scorpius knew Albus knew he was walking past, but he didn't say anything to him. Scorpius clenched his fists. If it had been last year before the... _incident, _Albus would have said something annoying and egotistical and Scorpius would have responded with a witty remark. The two of them would banter, eventually getting yelled at by the professor, but not before they had gotten the whole class listening. Now it was as if Albus didn't know what to say to him. When Scorpius and Albus had met each other's gaze the day before when Scorpius had walked into the Great Hall after his arrival, Albus had simply waited a few moments before leaving. No cocky greeting. Nothing.

Scorpius had expected almost everyone to treat him differently after his father's murder, but not anybody from the Potter-Weasley group. Especially not Albus. It was disconcerting.

"Er... Professor?" he asked when he reached the new Potions teacher. He knew his name was River Connolly – Auror Connolly, to be more specific. Scorpius only knew this because he had been there the night his father had been murdered. Hell, it seemed like the whole world had been there that night. Connolly had had his back to the class, writing something on the chalk board. He turned around when he heard Scorpius's voice.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Connolly said. Scorpius wondered if he was going to ask how he was. Or if Scorpius should as how he was.

"I need you to sign this..." Scorpius said awkwardly, pulling out a bit of crumpled up parchment from his bag and handing it to Connolly. "It's for McGonagall. She wants to make sure that I've gone to all my classes." Scorpius paused. "She thinks I'm going to ditch... or something."

"Of course," Connolly said. "Let me just get a quill..." While he was rummaging through his desk, he glanced up. "I trust you've been well?"

And it was like he was drowning in the memory of that night.

_"No, you can't make me leave him," Scorpius said hoarsely as they covered his father's body with a white sheet. _

_ Aurors had swarmed the manor within minutes of finding out the news. They were in every room by this point, Scorpius guessed. He wouldn't know. He hadn't left his spot on the floor since he had found Draco, mutilated and dead on the floor of the family's study. Anybody who was anybody was here. Harry Potter. Ron Weasley. Teddy Lupin. Those were just the faces he recognized through all of the chaos. Everyone else's faces blurred together. _

_ He could hear his mother speaking in a stiff, steady voice at the entryway of the room. "All I saw was a black cloak leave out the door that leads to the courtyard. That's when I heard Scorpius... upstairs. I knew something was wrong. When I found him, I had the elves call the Ministry." It was astonishing to think that all this had happened over the course of fifteen minutes. It was even more astonishing the think that Draco had lost that much blood in that little time... that it could soak that much of the rug, cover that much of Scorpius's hands and arms... his pants, his shirt._

_ "Scorpius," a gentle voice said. Someone placed their hand on his shoulder. "It's time to take him away."_

_ Scorpius turned his head a fraction to see that it was Teddy Lupin, sandy haired and brown eyed, watching him with guarded eyes. "No." He hadn't realized until he tasted salt that there were tears streaming down his face. "No. I'm staying with him."_

_ "We have to take him away. It's time to go."_

_ Another person knelt on the other side of Scorpius. It was a man Scorpius did not recognize, but he was close to Teddy's age. "Scorpius, I'm River Connolly. Teddy and I are going to take you to St. Mungos. They're going to give you some potions to make you sleep. You'll be safe there. Do you understand?"_

_ Scorpius glanced between the two men, one who he had only seen a few times, the other who he had never met. "I don't want to go with you." He saw Harry Potter and Ron Weasley discussing something across the room with a group of aurors. Harry looked at Draco's body and then met Scorpius's gaze, held it for a few seconds, before turning away and continuing to speak with his colleagues. _

_ "Look at me, Scorpius." It was Teddy._

_ Scorpius couldn't look at him again. His eyes had landed on the red stains on the white sheet covering his father, and he was trapped. _

_ "It's time to go, Scorpius. You can sleep at St. Mungos. You won't have to think for awhile." Connolly._

_ When Scorpius didn't respond, they each took one of his arms and pulled him so he was standing and led him from the room. Scorpius didn't struggle._

"Yes, I have," Scorpius responded, clearing his throat. "And you?"

Connolly smiled as he signed the parchment and handed it back to Scorpius. "Yes, I'm quite well." He scanned the room, and it took a moment for Scorpius to realize he was looking for a place for him to sit. "McGonagall wanted me to try and mix it up," he explained. "Which is why I'm forced to seat you with a Gryffindor. It's not to torture you, I promise. Let's see here... Ah, yes. Why don't you go take the seat by Miss Weasley?"

Scorpius nearly groaned. His fucking luck.

"Which one?" he asked, praying it wouldn't be Dominique Weasley. Yes, Rose was bad. But she wasn't nearly as bad as the blonde. Having to sit next to that stupid bitch would be enough to quit coming to class.

"Rose," Connolly clarified.

Not as shitty, but still bad enough. Scorpius nodded, not wanting to make a scene on his first day back. Biting his tongue, he turned around and found his seat next to Rose – in the front row, of course. Albus was sitting behind them with Brandice Brown, a Slytherin girl that Scorpius had dated for a couple years before he dumped her on her ass for her sister, Fate Brown. She was a Gryffindor. As if leaving Brandice for her sister wasn't bad enough.

To make matters worse, Dominique sat at the table horizontal to Scorpius and Rose's table. So much for avoiding her. Lindsey Nott – a Slytherin – sat with her. Lindsey was a male, just to be clear. He hated his first name, so everybody called him Nott. Even the Gryffindors knew not to call him Lindsey. God help the poor soul who decided to call Nott by his first name.

On the bright side, Potions was Rose's worst subject. At least Scorpius would be entertained.

"Weasley," he greeted her. She made a face at him before adjusting herself in her seat so she could properly look at Albus, who she had been having a conversation with before Scorpius had sat down. They were arguing about Lily Potter, the new Gryffindor Keeper. "We need to find her a a second," Albus was saying. "If she gets sick, who will play for her?"

"Al," Rose said exasperatedly. Scorpius detected a hint of hurt in her voice. "She _is _the second. My second."

"You quit the team," Albus said bluntly. "Lily's not a second anymore. She's a permanent fixture on the team now."

Rose was quiet. From the corner of Scorpius's eye, he could see her troubled expression. "What if... What if you made me Lily's second, then? I'm sure mum wouldn't mind. It's not like Lily is going to spontaneously combust or something. It is really unlikely that I'd ever have to fill in at all." She was reassuring herself. "You know that I can play, so if by the off chance that I did have to fill in, you'd know that the Keeper position was in the right hands."

"That's not a bad idea," Albus said. "Let's discuss this matter somewhere else, though." _Let's discuss this matter where Scorpius Malfoy won't eavesdrop._

Scorpius smirked, pulling his Potions book out of his bag and setting it on the table, probably a little too loudly. "Oh, look at this Weasley," he said delightedly. "A Potions book."

"Um...?" Rose turned around in her seat, clearly wondering what he wanted.

"The very reason you let down the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," she snapped angrily, pulling her own book out of her bag and slapping it on the table. "Do I need to remind you of when you turned that cup into a flesh eating fungus in Transfiguration last year? When it latched onto Brandice Brown and disfigured half her face?"

Scorpius smiled, pleased to have gotten a reaction. "I do remember that, Weasley. And they fixed her face, didn't they?"

"It needed to be fixed to begin with..." Rose muttered, opening her book and starting to read a page at random.

"Don't be petty, Weasley," Scorpius said soothingly. "She and I only dated for a few years. Not that long in the scheme of things."

"Your point?" Rose growled.

"I thought we were talking about your undying love for me. It's only natural for you to be jealous of my previous girlfriend," Scorpius responded innocently.

Rose slammed the book shut and turned to face him. "You're not funny, Malfoy!"

"So you are in love with me?"

Rose glared at him, her apparent hatred not actually reaching her ocean blue eyes. She was really quite pretty, Scorpius hated to admit. Much prettier than any of the girls here. She even beat out her cousin, Dominique, who was an eighth veela. Maybe it was just because Scorpius had always had a secret thing for redheads. A "thing" that he never pursued because he knew Albus Potter would be up his ass about dating anybody who looked remotely close to any member of his family.

Her red hair fell in perfect, loose tendrils over her shoulders and halfway down her back. Her bangs were twisted out of her face and clipped back with a pin that had an olive green ribbon tied at the end. The smattering of freckles Scorpius had always found dorky and childish faded a bit over the past few years, now enhancing her porcelain skin. That was about as much as she got from the gangly, awkward Ron Weasley. The rest of her was her mother; small framed, well defined chest and hips, delicate facial features.

_She really has developed well, _Scorpius thought uncomfortably, feeling like someone's creepy uncle. He resisted the urge to clear his throat and look away.

"That is one godawful assumption, Malfoy- What on Earth are you looking at?" she asked, annoyed.

"Yeah, Malfoy... Why are you looking at my cousin like someone's creepy uncle?" Scorpius nearly choked. Did Albus Potter just echo his thoughts exactly? Sure, they were really similar in certain ways. They played Quidditch identically, used the same tactics to win the student body's affection... But having the exact same thoughts? Scorpius must have misheard him.

Scorpius turned around, thrilled that Albus had finally spoken to him. It brought some normalcy back to his life here at Hogwarts. "You would know a creepy uncle when you saw one, wouldn't you, Potter? You're family is a bunch of inbreds, after all."

Albus snorted, shoving his hand through his tangled black hair. Scorpius hated that mop of hair. It was overgrown and stuck up everywhere, making it look like Albus had always just rolled out of bed. Scorpius at least _attempted _to flatten his before he gave up, leaving it how it was. Albus's startling green eyes unnerved Scorpius – how could somebody so stupid have eyes like that? They had this glint of intelligence that Scorpius detested. "Says the pureblood asshole. Didn't your family marry into itself at one point?"

"At least we're clean," Scorpius said smugly, turning in his seat to face the front of the class. "Your family is just a melting pot of bad news, Potter."

"Bigot," Albus muttered before Connolly called the attention of the class. Scorpius tuned out the entire class, not really interested in shit that he already knew. It was really odd, seeing them all again. Scorpius had grown up with these people; he knew most of their lives backwards and forwards, and definitely not because he wanted to. Why did they seem so distant from him now? Before the murder, he had been able to fall into just about any social group he wanted to. Not that he ever did; usually his social life was restricted to his Quidditch team, his dorm-mates, and the occasional Slytherin or Gryffindor slut.

Everyone looked exactly the same, if not having matured a little over the summer. But Scorpius felt different. Aged. He didn't belong with them anymore. It was as if something inside him had shifted. He didn't know if it was because he had spent so much time alone, pondering his father's death or if it was because there were no answers regarding the murder. Though he should be accepting the fact that they probably weren't going to get any answers, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Was it because he saw his father, stabbed, mutilated, and dead? Was it because he watched his mother lose all motivation? _Why? _

Scorpius did not want to think about it in class. It often left him shaking and unable to breathe.

Connolly's lecture was becoming increasingly boring, telling by the look on everyone's face. Scorpius nearly vomited when he saw that the only person paying attention was Dominique Weasley, an enthralled look on her face. Poor River Connolly. Out of all the attractive Potter-Weasleys, he had the one with the most horrific personality after him. Not to mention, she was his best mate's fiance's little sister. And she was was his student. And a whore.

That was shitty.

He supposed that Dominique Weasley was okay looking, but her annoying voice and stick-up-her-ass personality was enough to make him look the other direction. Her blonde hair was disturbingly silky – so silky, in fact, that it was almost staticky. She sort of had that doe-eyed look going for her, but it kind of reminded Scorpius of an infant. He decided that the only thing remotely appealing about her was her pouty lips – the ones that she and Rose both had. _Weasley traits, _Scorpius thought condescendingly. _Disgusting._

He decided Dominique's lips were even more disgusting due to the considerable amount of dicks that she sucked.

Scorpius, pleased with his inner monologue for the day, stood up and gathered his things when class was dismissed. He was halfway out the door, struggling to get around Albus fucking Potter who was stumbling around like a god damn toddler, when Connolly called him up to his desk. Scorpius's good mood was destroyed. He had hoped Connolly would wait awhile before he decided to have a talk with him. But no, of course not. It was going to happen on his first day back.

"Yes, Professor?" Scorpius asked stiffly, gripping the strap of his back so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Connolly was shuffling parchment around on his desk awkwardly. "Er... yes, I would like to speak to you about something Scorpius." What exactly Connolly was looking for, Scorpius did not know. "Well, you see, as a new teacher here – especially being quite young for a professor – I think it would be quite nice to have a bit of help here around the classroom." Fuck. "I've talked to Headmistress McGonagall and she suggested that I ask you, since you seem to do very well in Potions. Also, keeping your extended absence in mind, I thought this might be an excellent opportunity for you to catch up."

Scorpius turned on his charm. "That is very considerate, Professor, but I don't really think I'll have any trouble catching up. Plus, my Quidditch team needs every spare second I have." Translation: _Thank you, but fuck off. _

"I'm sure you'll find time for Quidditch, Scorpius," Connolly said, a small smile on his face. He finally looked up from the parchment on his desk. His hazel eyes were too young to belong to a retired professor; they still had the spark that a auror possessed. "Allow me to clarify. When I say that it is an excellent opportunity for you to catch up, I mean it is the _only _opportunity for you to catch up. You've missed a month of your seventh year... You don't think that I'm going to let you get away with not doing any of the work that your classmates were required to do, do you?" A bribe. Excellent.

Scorpius was silent.

"Meet me here every Tuesday and Thursday night at six, starting next week."

Scorpius tried to find something to say, but when words failed him he nodded, defeated, and exited the classroom, half-relieved because Connolly didn't mention his father, half-pissed because now Tuesday and Thursday nights were not available for practice sessions. If Albus Potter found out, he would schedule his sessions every day aside from those days – ultimately giving Slytherin no time to practice.

Sighing, Scorpius decided that he had to face what he was dreading since the moment he got back: the Slytherin team. It was time to call a meeting.

**A/N:**

**Slowly but surely, I guess. It was odd getting back into this Scorpius... I'm so used to LS Scorpius, and while they don't have that many differences I feel like this one starts out way more immature. I don't know. Okay. Reviews please because I love you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in this about HP or JKR is not mine. The whole thing is basically**

**about HP or JKR, so none of it is mine. Thanks for reading.**

**Her Eyes **_**(Rewritten)**_

**Chapter Three:**

**Dominique Weasley:**

More drops of blood hit the bit of crumpled and uncrumpled parchment that Dominique held in her shaking hands. Dominique sniffed, her entire body aching from having vomited up her entire lunch into the toilet. She read the letter over again, and felt her shaking increase. There was so much sadness, so much anger, inside of her... She felt like she was about to explode. Dom drew one of her dainty, pale fists back and slammed it into the stone wall of the the girls' fourth floor restroom with enough force to make Albus proud.

Her bleeding knuckles stung and she smiled. If only he knew what it was doing to her. If only Teddy knew she was in love with him.

The letter had arrived that afternoon. Victoire had written to Dominique – oblivious to Dominique's hatred toward her – gushing over Teddy's apparent proposal. Dominique did not known Teddy had proposed, but of course Victoire assumed that she did. Victoire assumed that everyone talked about her all the time, so naturally, Victoire thought the news had gotten around the the younger family members before the letter arrived. It hadn't.

Victoire was perfect in every single way. She was the spitting image of her mother. While Dominique had inherited _some _of her mother's traits, Victoire had inherited all of them. Tall and willowy, high cheekbones and almond shaped blue eyes. Beautiful full lips. Perfect stature. Gorgeous thick, silky blonde hair. Her perfection was evident everywhere, right down to her immaculate nail beds.

Throughout their childhood, Victoire had always done better than Dominique in everything. She was the top of her class at Hogwarts. Dominique struggled to pay attention in one of her classes, let alone all of them. Victoire was excellent at Quidditch and understood the game without a problem. Dominique never made the team, and during family games, Albus had to explain to Dominique what was going on. Victoire could eat whatever she wanted, when she wanted. If Dominique ate a bite too much, she'd be a pound up on the scale the next morning. Victoire was the picture of sheer perfection.

Dominique was not. Her own reflection made her sick.

She examined the new cuts on her wrists, the drops of blood that were still hitting the paper and the tile that she stood on... and she hated herself. How could she do this? Her body was already damaged enough. She was born damaged. She did not meet the expectation of physical perfection that ran in her blood. _Veela blood. _She watched as more dripped on the floor, and shoved her fist in her mouth to hide her sobs.

Victoire got everything because of her beauty. Dominique got nothing... because she was ugly. She was too fat and too stupid. Not good enough. Never good enough. Not in her mother's eyes, not in her father's eyes... Not in Teddy's eyes. Victoire was always the most cherished, the most loved. When Victoire was in the room, nobody saw Dominique. She was invisible.

"Dom," a male voice called, making her jump. Albus. "Are you in here?"

She tried to stay quiet, but the sound of her cousin's voice made her cry harder. He always found her like this. It was only a few moments before he pushed the stall door open and saw her there, half-naked and shaking. He sighed, stepping in the bathroom stall and closing the door behind him.

"I-" Dominique started, looking down at her stomach and cleavage. She hadn't realized she had taken the razor to her torso and breasts as well. "I don't know what happened," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Albus, who was draped in his Quidditch robes, shook his head. "You have to stop doing this, Dominique," he said gently. She hadn't realized that he was carrying a bag until he reached into it and pulled out a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. The shirt belonged to him, and the jeans looked like they belonged to Rose. "Your parents will find out again eventually... and then what will happen?"

"They'll ask me why I can't be more like Victoire," Dominique muttered, taking the shirt from Albus and putting it on, pulling her long blonde hair out from the neck. It was about two sizes too big, and made Dominique feel even fatter. After tugging on the jeans, she met Albus's green eyes. He was watching her, examining her... judging to see _just _how bad of a state she was really in.

He took her by the arm and pulled the sleeve of the shirt up, revealing her pale, bleeding flesh. "Why?"

"You know why," she answered stiffly. "I'm sure Teddy wrote to you. I'm sure that's how you knew to come find me."

"They're engaged," Albus stated, nodding. "And Teddy... Teddy is happy."

That was all it took for Dominique to snap. Yanking her arm from his grasp, she shoved her cousin against the bathroom stall. "What about _me? _When do I get to be happy Albus? Why does everyone else get to be happy and not me? What have I done?"

"We're middle children, Dominique. They'll always expect us to look after ourselves. We have to choose to be happy."

"Your parents don't treat you the way mine treat me," Dominique whispered, feeling more broken than ever. "Your dad and your mum still fawn over you like... like you're Albus Potter." She sighed shakily. "There's a difference between us, Albus. Your parents grant you independence. My parents ignore me. They are two completely different things."

"You have all of us. You have me," Albus said strongly, his eyes flashing protectively. "You are never alone."

Dominique was quiet, and finally, she let Albus loose. He took her by the wrist – carefully – and pulled her into a brotherly embrace. Dominique nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and her nose with a bit of Albus's Quidditch robes. He pulled away, mock disgust on his face. Dominique smiled weakly. "I know that," she said.

"Want to go get some dinner?" he asked.

Dominique made a face.

Realization seemed to dawn on Albus almost instantly. "You didn't," he said, "throw up, did you?" When Dominique didn't answer, he sighed for a second time since he arrived. "Dominique, you don't have to do that to yourself. You're beautiful. You're skinnier than all the girls here. There's no reason for you vomit or skip meals... or do whatever you do."

"I don't want to talk about that," she said uncomfortably. "Can we just forget it?"

"Forget that you're killing yourself, Dom?" Albus demanded. When Dominique flinched, Albus's expression softened. "We'll talk about it another day," he finally said. "Just don't do it again... please."

Dominique nodded, crossing her fingers behind her back, before gathering her robes from the school day and putting them in her bag. She and Albus exited the girl's bathroom in silence, one of Albus's arms slung comfortingly across her shoulder.

…

"Miss Weasley?" Professor Connolly called from his desk in the Potions classroom.

"Which one?" Dominique and Rose asked in unison, looking up as they gathered their belongings in preparation for being dismissed from class. The two girls grinned at each other, and shot identical glares at Scorpius Malfoy who said something under his breath – something derogatory, no doubt.

"Dominique," River said, smiling. Dominique ignored the annoying flutter of her heart. He was so attractive.

"Yes?" she responded as she gathered her hair on top of her head and knotted it there with an elastic band.

"If you'd see me after class, please," he said, looking down at the parchment in front of him. Dominique nearly groaned. Fucking River and his fucking perfect sandy-blond hair and fucking gorgeous hazel eyes and fucking adorable dimples and fucking immaculate jaw structure. Dominique hated him. She always had. Out of all of Teddy's friends, he had always been the one to pay attention to her – or torment her, rather. He had always laughed rudely when she had not understood Quidditch as well as she should have, or taunted her when she would eat candy or cake at family parties.

He was bully and he was her teacher and he was sexy as sin. Damn him and his stupid... _face. _

When all of her classmates had left, Dominique met Connolly at his desk. "What, River?" she asked dully.

River grinned. He liked to smile, Dominique noticed. Not that it was bad thing. "I'm guessing you heard the good news?"

Dominique's heart sank. "Teddy and Victoire are engaged... I know."

River quirked an eyebrow. "You don't sound very excited for your sister?"

"Of course I'm excited." Dominique was very tired. "She's my sister. She'll make a beautiful bride."

"Yes," River agreed. Dominique felt nauseous. What did she expect him to say? _Yeah, I suppose she'll be alright._ Obviously not. Dominique's nausea increased and she began to feel bloated. But she was _starving. _"I figure we'll be working together quite a bit before the wedding."

"What?" Dominique asked, hardly hearing him. She wanted food.

"Considering you're the maid of honor and I'm the best man," River explained. Dominique stared at him blankly, her thoughts somewhere else. River began to look uncomfortable. He probably thought she was mentally unstable. Dominique resisted the urge to laugh. "I thought we could plan the engagement party?"

"Er... yeah," Dom responded, her hands starting to shake. By chance, River's eyes flickered downward and Dominique instantly assumed that he was judging how fat she was. He was probably comparing her to Victoire. _How can Victoire be so perfect and Dominique be the opposite? _River was probably thinking. Dominique felt her eyes start to sting and her appetite suddenly vanished. Her breakfast from that morning weighed down heavily in her stomach and she knew that she was going to have to make a dash for the restroom soon. "I guess so."

"Excellent..." River was eyeing her with concern, but Dominique was positive it was judgment. "Are you alright-"

"I'll stop by your quarters tomorrow, okay?" Dominique said quickly, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Okay-"

"Great. Bye."

She hurried from the Potions room, her nausea increasing with each step. Dominique shoved her way through all the Slytherins that were lingering in the dungeons after their class. Scorpius Malfoy was standing with his team near the staircase that would take her to the first floor rest rooms. _Please don't say anything, please don't say anything..._

"Weasley," he called. Dom tried to pass him but he stepped in front of her. She was going to vomit on him if he didn't move, which she didn't want. And she was sure he would probably beat her senseless if he did. "Weasley, have you gained any weight?" he asked eyeing her with disgust in his eyes. Dominique knew in the back of her head that she hadn't – she _knew – _but the fact that Scorpius was pointing it out to the entire Slytherin team so they could view her as fatter made her feel even sicker.

"You need to move, Malfoy," Dominique said faintly. She could feel it coming up.

"Or what, Weasley?" Scorpius asked, glancing sideways at Lindsey Nott, a smirk playing at his lips. "You'll call your hoards of knights in shining armor to rescue you? I heard that you're not up to your old games anymore. Not sleeping with the entire Gryffindor House? Not up for it this year? What about Slytherins?"

Dominique chest was beginning to feel tight and cold sweat was forming on the back of her neck.

"I'm quite disappointed," Scorpius continued. She hated him. All she wanted was for him to go away and never come back. "I thought that after I returned, I might give you a go... You know, a test run..." Dominique knew that Scorpius hated her about as much as he hated Albus – _a lot. _Of course he wasn't planning on having sex with her, but talking about it was a great way to taunt her. He finally seemed to see her. "Oh, she looks like she's going to be sick. Have a bit too much to eat–?"

"Malfoy!" someone's voice barked from down the hall. River. Excellent.

Scorpius clamped his mouth shut, but that was only to conceal his laughter. "Yes, Professor Connolly?" The way Scorpius looked at River was a little suspicious, making Dominique wonder if Scorpius and River were familiar with each other. He seemed to be viewing him as more of an equal, opposed to a professor. Sure, the Potters and Weasleys regarded River like he was a part of their family... But Scorpius had probably never even met him before the school year. Odd.

Dominique, not really caring at this point in time, took Scorpius's brief moment of distraction as a chance to push past him. She was practically sprinting to the bathroom, her nausea making her head spin. She knew that her body would not throw up on its own. The horrible part about this whole ordeal was that Dominique didn't actually need to throw up. It was a mind game... at least that's what the healers said. When she felt terrible about herself or her body, her mind told her body to get rid of the bad. She would not feel relief until she vomited.

This "game" dominated her life.

After pushing the door to the girls' restroom on the first floor open, she found the nearest stall, and fell to her knees. She stuck her middle finger down her throat as far as it would go and sick exploded from her mouth and into the toilet. After dry heaving a few times, she fell back, coughing, tears streaming down her face. It was getting bad again. This episode told her that much.

All because fucking River Connolly had agreed that her sister was beautiful.

Dominique felt so selfish. How could she hate somebody – her own flesh and blood, for that matter – so much _just _for being beautiful and talented? She pulled her sleeves back to reveal her newest cuts and old scars, wondering how on earth she could stop herself. Last time she had started this, her parents had taken her to the mental ward at St. Mungos. It had been completely terrible. An entire summer spent there, wasted. She couldn't go back there. Never again, she had promised herself. Never.

She had to get herself under control. With the wedding coming up, it was just going to look like a cry for attention and she definitely did not want that. Rubbing at her sore wrists, she stood up and walked out of the stall, grateful that there had been nobody in the bathroom during her episode. Dominique let the water from the sinks run over her wrists, sighing.

It was not natural for somebody to hate themselves this much. She often wondered if she had set herself up for this kind of self-hatred. She had slept with more boys that she liked to admit and she was bullied for it. She assumed that was a major contributing factor. But those bullies never hesitated to sleep with her. What made them any better than herself? It's not like Dominique was sleeping with these boys for personal gain...

Why was she doing it? Attention? Affection? Was it because Victoire had always had boys fawning over her, begging for her attention? Dominique admitted that she got quite a bit of attention from the boys, but it was different from the kind that Victoire had gotten. Victoire had gotten admiration. Boys wanted to be around Victoire because they thought she was sweet, and pretty, and excellent girlfriend material. Boys wanted to be around Dominique because she had breasts and an ass and she was... _easy. _

Dominique had tried to stop, but it became painfully obvious that her reputation was already down the drain.

_Dom, why do you just give it away like that? _Victoire always asked daintily as the two girls browsed the shops in Diagon Alley or sipped tea at their grandmother's house. _I have never slept with anybody but Teddy and I feel perfectly fulfilled. _Of course she felt perfectly fulfilled, Dominique always thought. She had the perfect man. Who wouldn't feel perfectly fulfilled with Teddy Lupin as a boyfriend? Fiance. Husband. Whatever.

Looking into the mirror above the sink, Dominique examined her blonde hair that went halfway down her back and her big blue eyes. She was pretty... wasn't she? She was delicate and skinny and sweet... wasn't she?

No. She was ugly.

**A/N:**

**Whoa. What. Dominique? **

**Yeaaaah. I don't know. I decided to make this a Scorpius/Rose/Albus/Dominique POV story. I find that I always make them their own characters with their own storylines that always go half explained. Also, you all know that I've been tossing around a Dominique story for awhile. I identify strongly with the Dominique that I write. Not that I'm sleeping with boys every night (yeah, right!), but you get what I mean. She's more like me than anybody else. Yep. Dramatic Anonymous is dramatic.**

**Alright. Slowly but surely. The turtle wins the race...whatever that saying is. Thanks for sticking by me guys. I love you dearly. And your reviews make me smile.**

**Also I didn't really edit this. Okay bye.**

**Written,**

**Anonymous;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in this about HP or JKR is not mine. The whole thing is basically**

**about HP or JKR, so none of it is mine. Thanks for reading.**

**Her Eyes **_**(Rewritten)**_

**Chapter Four:**

**Albus Potter:**

He was alone. Finally.

Albus Potter breathed a sigh of relief, sliding down the back wall of the library. He was hidden by rows of bookshelves, and he hoped that this peace and quiet would last longer than a few minutes. Albus was rarely alone. There was always somebody talking to him, wanting his attention, asking for his opinion... Silence was odd. Precious, but odd.

He appreciated the popularity, of course. He expected it, being Harry Potter's son and having Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape as namesakes. It was usually great – girls wanting him, boys envying him, his very presence making people nervous. But... this year, it was different.

The summer had taken its toll on him. After watching James get signed on with the Chudley Cannons, he realized the last thing he wanted to do was be a professional Quidditch player. Albus was always expected to follow in James's footsteps, and now he knew that he did not want that. He wanted to be an auror, like his father. Her had demonstrated the skills and the talents for it since he was a young boy, he had thought about it for years... But, he had always said he wanted to play Quidditch. Albus didn't know how to tell his team or his family that the career path he had been set to follow since he was young boy was no longer his goal. They would be supportive regardless, of course... The only problem was he knew that his father would think it was to please him, and that was not the case.

Albus didn't want to think about that.

Rubbing his temples, he stretched his legs out in front of him, thoroughly exhausted. The entire team had been on his dick about Scorpius Malfoy's return, and the Slytherin team's lack of "publicity." They were all convinced that he was planning to do _something _horrible and conniving_... _Albus thought otherwise. He knew that if his father had been murdered unexpectedly, the last thing on his mind would be playing pranks on schoolmates. All Albus would want is a little bit of normalcy.

It was weird, seeing Scorpius so weak. Physically and mentally. He had lost so much weight he looked like he was about to collapse, and he had this disturbed look in his eyes that Albus could not stop thinking about. Of course, Albus couldn't do anything about it. He and Scorpius were about as far from friends than anything else. Albus shouldn't want to help him. But there was something... something so... _sick _about him. If Scorpius knew that Albus was pitying him, he would surely beat the living shit out of him just to prove he was still strong.

"Oh, shit..." a female said from down the aisle of books Albus was hiding in.

Albus resisted the urge to run. They had found him.

He looked down the aisle to see a pretty girl with porcelain skin and long chocolate brown hair. Odd. Albus had never seen her before. It was then he realized that she didn't share his accent. She was American. Albus stood, for she had dropped her books – the source of her profanity – and went to help her pick them up. As he knelt down beside her and helped her stack them in a pile, he could smell vanilla wafting from her body.

He met her wide green-blue eyes, and she flushed. "I am _so _sorry," she said in her accent.

Albus grinned, picked up the books and straightening up. She followed suit. "Why?"

"Um..." She looked confused. Pretty, indeed. Her lips were the first thing he noticed; full, soft, and pink. He wouldn't mind kissing her, he decided. Big eyes, sloped nose, petite body. Beautiful. "I don't know." She seemed to be at loss for words. She was staring at him with big eyes, and Albus knew that she recognized him. He was identical to his father, after all.

"Albus Potter," he said, handing her books back to her.

She nodded. "Right. Christabel. Belvidere. Christabel Belvidere."

"I've never heard that last name," Albus said, finding her anxiousness cute. Albus was sucker for cute girls. Particularly cute girls with brown hair, green-blue eyes, nice lips, and the name Christabel.

"It's an American family," she said. "American pureblood." Her eyes widened. "Not that it matters, obviously. Like, we're not a racist family." She seemed to be mentally kicking herself. "God, that sounded stupid."

Albus leaned against a bookshelf, amused. "Hogwarts doesn't usually accept new students so late in their education. What are your circumstances?"

"My parents were killed at the end of last month," she said, her expression hardening. "Murdered. The Ministry sent us here for extra protection – I guess there's been some pureblood murders in Europe and they think there's a tie."

Albus made a mental note to ask his father about that. "Us?" he asked. "Extra protection?"

"Yeah. My brother is a sixth year." She seemed to be growing more comfortable. "We're going to get assigned to an auror family to stay with during winter holidays, since we're currently without a home. I guess that's the Ministry's idea of extra protection." She rolled her eyes.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you'll get to stay with us over winter holidays."

"Oh, sure," she said. Albus was pleased with her playful sarcasm. "What are the chances of that?"

"All things considering," he said gesturing to himself, "they're pretty high."

"All things considering..." Christabel pondered. "What on Earth could you mean?"

Albus smiled, pushing himself away form the bookshelf. "I'll see you around, Belvidere."

As he walked away, Albus's smile widened. It was only when he heard somebody snort sarcastically that he stopped walking and looked to his right. There, down the aisle, was Scorpius Malfoy. He was staring down at a Transfiguration book that he held in his hands, shaking his head and grinning at the exchange he had just overheard. Albus thought about saying something annoying and egotistical, but... hey, Albus was a flirt. He knew it. Scorpius knew it. There was no malice in Scorpius's expression, just amusement. Albus had nothing to say.

Albus carried on, confused at the abrupt sense of comradeship he felt.

…

He loved her. That was the only goddamn answer. Albus was in love with Christabel Belvi-whatever.

It had been a week of seeing her in his classes, in the common room – she was a Gryffindor – and in the Great Hall. His bravado from meeting her the first time had vanished and whenever he decided he was going to talk to her, he got tongue-tied and awkward. He couldn't focus on the field, on his studies, on _anything. _His team thought he was losing his mind. Poor, pathetic Hugo was running more errands than normal because Albus was having such a difficult time functioning.

Not to mention, he was having a hell of a time keeping his hands out of his own goddamn pants.

He felt so creepy all the time, so he started to avoid places where he might see her – but she was _everywhere. _And she was so popular. The cute new American student, when her pretty skin and hair and perfect body. Everyone loved listening to her, hearing about America and the Salem Institute – where she went to school before Hogwarts. Boys were downright forward with her, though, and it made Albus furious.

He knew she was beautiful, but seriously-

"God fuck, Potter," Scorpius Malfoy's voice cut into his thoughts. "Cover up." He handed him Transfiguration book and Albus quickly covered his crotch with it. Dammit. There it went again. He was sitting on one of the benches on the Quidditch field, trying to get some schoolwork done before the team got there for practice.

"I don't need it back," Scorpius said, eyeing his book, disgusted.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Albus asked, as Scorpius sat down beside him on the bench and looked at him straight in the face. His hair was windswept and his cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. The dark green and gray of his Slytherin scarf and the black of his robes made him look even paler than he actually was. "If you think you get to watch us practice, you're sadly mistaken-"

"Right," Scorpius cut him off. "I'm going to leave. I'm just here to ask for a favor."

Albus quirked an eyebrow.

Scorpius cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, you see... Connolly is making me come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help him with... shit. It's a huge pain in my ass. But I'm not going to graduate unless I do, so..."

"What are you asking me?"

"I'm asking you to cut me some slack. Obviously, my team can't practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays now, and if I know you, you're going to schedule your team to practice every other day accept those days just to piss me off." He was quiet for a moment. "Er... you think you could do that?"

"Schedule my team on every other day just to piss you off?"

"Leave me a few days to schedule my team?" Scorpius asked, frustrated, looking as if he was watching somebody brutally murder an innocent baby giraffe, having to ask the question outright.

Albus shrugged. "Yeah. That's fine. I'll schedule mine Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You can have Monday, Wednesday, Friday."

"Er... what?" Scorpius looked shocked.

"I mean, you might have to fight with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but we both know they're shit. So you shouldn't have much trouble," Albus continued, amused. Surely, Scorpius thought this was some sort of trap, but honestly, it was all for the best of the game. If there was no competition, it would be boring. "Just make sure that you do something to get the rivalry going, though. Pour pumpkin juice on one of my cousins' head. Kidnap my chasers. I don't know. Something. The teams are starting to get restless and it's fucking annoying. Hugo is up my ass constantly."

"Right..." Scorpius still looked confused. "I'll get on that. Thanks... Potter."

"Yeah-"

"What the hell?" Another person had joined them. Rose. Albus had always had a suspicion that Scorpius fancied Rose in a really twisted, forbidden sort of way. It was fascinating to observe. Rose sat down on Albus's other side, leaning forward to looked at Scorpius properly. "When did we start inviting the Slytherins to practice?"

"We didn't," Albus said.

"Weasley!" Scorpius looked delighted. "The cloud cover makes your hair look duller than usual. Lovely."

Rose stared at him blankly before turning her gaze to Albus. "Why is he here?"

"He's having erectile dysfunction. Doesn't know what to do. Didn't know where else to turn."

Scorpius grinned at Rose, nodding. "It's a sad day when you have to turn to arch nemesis for advice. But... now that you're here, my problem has seemed to vanish. It's been... _lifted. _Until next time, Weasley. See you on field, Potter." He snorted before standing up, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robes, and taking off back toward the school, shaking his head and chortling. Albus watched him go, smirking at that sorry fucker, wondering what the hell had happened to him over the summer.

"That was... odd." Rose was watching Scorpius, as well. "What do you think happened to him?"

Albus shrugged. "His dad was murdered. I'll bet he's lonely. Everyone's treating him like he's unapproachable. That's enough to drive anyone mad. He's only human... I suppose."

"Oh, god," Rose said, sounding alarmed. "You're not having so revelation moment now are you? Are you going to decide to befriend him? You're not going to invite him to the common room party next week, are you?"

Albus smiled, looking down at Scorpius's Transfig book on his lap, remembering their agreement to get the rivalry rolling. "If I know Scorpius, he won't need an invite."

…

"Go talk to her, mate," Hugo said, nudging Albus forward, as they stepped through the portrait hole after practice. Albus resisted the urge to backhand his little cousin across his face. "_Go._" Albus stood his ground, glaring at Hugo before returning his gaze back to Christabel, who was standing near the fireplace in the common room, talking to a couple of members of the team. Traders.

"No," Albus said, wondering why he was such a bitch. Hugo shook his mop of red hair, his smattering of freckles particularly annoying that day. He was about as tall as Albus now, and Albus decided he had grown into himself quite well... surprisingly. Hugo was basking in his sixth year glory, pleased to know that he would take Albus's place next year. The little bastard already had girls trailing behind him everywhere he went. Mostly, they were third and fourth years, considering the fifth and sixth years seemed to think they still had a chance with the seventh year team members. That didn't stop Hugo from letting his prick-ness shine out his asshole.

"Why not?" Hugo demanded, winking at a blonde fourth year who walked by. She flushed and giggled with her group of friends.

"She's busy," Albus said lamely.

"_Oi, Christabel!_" Hugo shouted obnoxiously.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," Albus muttered, looking at the ground, shuffling his feet, his cheeks as red as the girl who Hugo had just hit on. Christabel met his gaze when he looked up and smiled dazzlingly. It was when she stood up and starting walking toward him that Albus damn near shit his pants.

"Hey, Albus," she said, and Al wondered how _she _had been the shy one the first time they met.

"Er... hello." What did his say now?! _I think you have a great smile, and I really like your eyes, your rack isn't that bad either, how about we go on a date? _Obviously not.

"I'm Hugo," Hugo said, offering his hand for her to shake. It took every ounce of his willpower for Albus not to rip it off.

She shook it politely. "Rose's little brother, right?" Albus nearly vomited. She knew Rose? How close were they?

"The one and only," Hugo said. Albus pictured himself punching Hugo in his face. "Listen," he said, "my cousin Albus here has thirty days to live and he really needs you to-"

"Shit," Albus let out in the breath he had been holding. "Go away, Hugo."

Hugo swept a dramatic bow, and – thankfully – left. Christabel laughed, watching Hugo stride across the common room and throw himself between two girls who were sitting on a couch, draping an arm over each of their shoulders. "Remind me to shove my foot up his ass the next time I see him," Albus said when Christabel turned to face him again.

"Oh, he sort of sweet," Christabel said, tilting her head to the side. "In a really weird sort of way."

"If he's sweet, I'm a goddamn saint," Albus muttered, shaking his head. He wished he hadn't just arrived from practice. He looked ill – he was horrifically sweaty from physical strain, but his nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. He looked like he had contracted the flu.

"Thirty days to live?" she asked.

Albus shrugged, throwing his arms up. "News to me." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, since you're here – sorry – I thought I'd ask if you wanted to go with me to the Hogsmeade weekend in a few weeks? I figured I'd show you around, if you'd like."

"A grand tour by Albus Potter himself?" Christabel bit her lip, deciding. "I guess so. But only if you buy me a butterbeer. We don't have them America. I hear they're good."

"Ah, already breaking my bank," Albus flirted. He had almost said, _Ah, already sucking me dry, _but he figured that sounded a a little too Hugo-esque and perverted. "But, I think I can manage."

"Great," Christabel said, making Albus's knees nearly give out with her smile. "I'll see you around, Potter," she said, echoing their last encounter. She turned and hurried up the stairs that led up to the girl's dormitory. Albus turned around, deciding it was time to visit the restroom for some alone time.

Before he left, Hugo winked, and mouthed, _You're welcome._

How was it possible to hate and love somebody so much?

**A/N: **

**Oh, Albus. Albus, Albus, Albus.**

**Love you guys! Please review. I know how you love Albus. And I have a feeling that some of my long-time readers will fall in love with Hugo, too, you little weirdos.'**

**Scorpius chapter next. You guys might find out what I've been up to the past year because of it. Awkward laugh.**

**Written,**

**Anonymous;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in this about HP or JKR is not mine. The whole thing is basically**

**about HP or JKR, so none of it is mine. Thanks for reading.**

**Her Eyes **_**(Rewritten)**_

**Chapter Five:**

**Smut warning.**

**Scorpius Malfoy:**

It took a few days for Brandice Brown to find Scorpius and effectively corner him in a fourth floor corridor, late one night after Quidditch practice. Scorpius was sweaty and tired and making his way to the fourth floor bathroom to have a shower. Nobody went into the girls' fourth floor bathroom because of Moaning Myrtle, and though she was annoying as fuck, it was better than having the whole goddamned school invading your personal space.

"Hello, Scorpius," she said breathlessly. Brandice's face was as familiar to Scorpius's as his own... as was the rest of her body. They had dated for a long time – two years – and while he couldn't really say he genuinely cared about her, he had been quite fond of her for awhile. Brandice had lost her virginity to him, so Scorpius sort of understood why she was still so hung up on him. He did wonder, however, how somebody could be rejected so many times and keep coming back for more. Especially since he had fucked her sister... the day before he had broke up with Brandice.

"Brandice," he said in ways of greeting, glancing behind her at the turn of the corridor, contemplating running. The first thing he noticed about her was her jet black hair, soft and sleek down her back. He remembered running his hands through that hair many times, knowing how much she liked it. He looked back into her eyes, dark as coal, remembering when he had thought they were sexy. For some reason, he had been finding blue eyes to be more satisfactory lately. She was still beautiful – that fact was unavoidable. But she was... plain. Boring. The same as any other slut here at Hogwarts. Which is exactly why Scorpius was tempted to...

What the hell? Why not?

"I trust that you had a good summer?" Scorpius asked, smiling crookedly at her. Just like that, her breathing hitched. _So fucking easy. _That was all it took for him to have her wrapped around his fingers. That smile was his secret weapon. When they were together, and he did something to piss her off, all he had to do was throw that smile on and she was dough in his hands. Actually, that was part of the reason he cut it off with her, aside from his emotional detachment; she would never argue with him about anything, and when she tried, it was so easy for him to win. He wanted somebody who was capable of having a little independence, capable of fighting for what they wanted. The "yes, dear" or "of course, dear" was a major turn off.

That didn't mean he didn't want to fuck her senseless, though. Because he did.

"Yes," Brandice said breathily. "You?"

Dumb cunt. Of course his summer was shitty. His father had been brutally murdered and the entire wizarding world knew about it. Much to his dismay, Scorpius had started hearing whispers of one of the "top ten most famous wizarding murders of all time," and considering how many fucking murderers there had been in the past fifty years, that was a feat. Scorpius was starting to believe it, too. Hell, he had been followed by photographers whenever he went out in public. His mother had to hire a squad of aurors to watch the house because they had crowded the gate for weeks.

She was so stupid for asking that question. Nonetheless, he gave her a vague, "It was fine," before reaching out and twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers. He wondered how somebody could be so caught up – so in love – that they could forget he fucked her sister and broke up with her by telling her he fucked her sister. If anybody had done that shit to him, he'd be so finished. "Is there any chance you'd like to join me for a shower?" he asked. "I was just heading that way." He tilted his head to the side. "I don't really feel like being alone."

Brandice nodded helplessly. Scorpius felt his dick harden and he fucking smirked at the thought of Albus Potter and his stupid face.

_Erectile dysfunction my ass._

…

The shower hadn't even been turned on by the time Brandice pushed Scorpius against the tiled wall, desperately unbuttoning the shirt he had changed into after practice. She pushed his shirt off and rubbed her hands all over chest and torso, crushing her lips to his, and Merlin, she was pathetic. He nearly called it off right there, but he hadn't had sex in months and he felt even more pathetic than Brandice, having to find a place to beat it off every fucking night. Scorpius reached down and unbuttoned her skimpy jeans, pushing them down enough so she could work them to her ankles and kick them off.

In return, she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, but he was stopping her right there – his pants were not coming off. To not look like a totally prick, he slid down the wall, pulling her closer to him and allowing her to straddle his lap. Her tongue was everywhere in his mouth, frantically looking for something like blind mouse or some shit... Probably his love. Or his dick.

It was all quick and dirty from that point on.

Brandice reached into his pants and pulled out his dick, grinning dopily when she saw it like it was an old friend. She began pumping it hard and fast, still making out with him clumsily. Scorpius never really liked the way she kissed, but he let her keep on it – it was the least he could do, considering he didn't plan on speaking to her again. She sucked too hard on his upper lip, bit too hard on his bottom one. Mentally rolling his eyes, he figured he'd take over from this point on.

Removing her hand from his cock and sliding two fingers underneath the elastic hem of her panties, he began stroking her skin softly, making her moan. Too loudly, too soon. Her rubbed harder, faster, concentrating on the pleasure spot, watching her close her eyes and throw her head back dramatically like she was about to cum already. He wouldn't be that fucking surprised if she did, at the rate she was going.

"I want your rock hard cock inside of me," she said raspily. _Not that good at talking dirty either, _Scorpius thought, rather dissatisfied, but decided to give her what she wanted. Resisting the urge to physically shrug, Scorpius felt to make sure she was actually wet and not faking the whole thing for his affection – he may be a douche, but he'd never just go in dry. Pleased that she was, he maneuvered himself so that he was on top of her, and directed his dick into her, disappointed when she wasn't as tight as she had been before, and almost laughing when she whimpered like a fucking hyena.

This was clearly a mistake.

He went in and out, faster and faster, closing his eyes and envisioning something... _anything _that wasn't equivalent to the present. He imagined he could feel soft, pale skin... his hands touching, caressing... feeling slender arms around him... he was kissing down a delicate jaw to the smooth skin of a neck... her hands stroked his dick firmly, pumping just enough to tease him... later, when he was inside of her, she was perfect, her quiet moans only making him want her even more... faster, faster, she wanted faster... she whimpered quietly into the crook of his neck, and with that he came as she did...

Suddenly, a flash of red flickered in his mental image, followed by ocean blue, and his body tensed up. He pulled out of Brandice just in time, managing to ejaculate everywhere aside from his clothes... thankfully. Falling back on his ass, panting, he wondered what kind of fucking fantasy that was. That was the most innocent goddamn fantasy he'd ever had. Granted, it was sex, so it couldn't really be innocent, but there was something so... _sweet _about it. He wasn't fucking the girl in that fantasy... he was making love to her.

What the hell was with the red and blue at the end? He knew that it had to do with the person in the fantasy, but what the hell is red and blue on a girl? Aside from an overly-masturbated pussy, he couldn't think of anything, and he was pretty sure that was not the reason behind the red and blue.

"That was _amazing,_" Brandice said, licking her lips and staring at him with wide eyes. She crawled over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Was it as amazing for you as it was for me?" She was breathing heavily, like she had just ran a marathon.

"Er... yeah," Scorpius said, gently disengaging himself from her. "It was great."

She stared at him, _finally _realized what this was. It was a fuck. That's all it was. It wasn't some reconnection, or an apology for sleeping with her sister. It was because she was there and Scorpius was horny. Tears filled Brandice's eyes and she slapped him hard across the face. "You are a horrible person, you know that?" she snapped. Scorpius shrugged. Nothing he hadn't heard before. "I loved you, and you messed it up... and now you do this? Couldn't you at least let me have my dignity?"

Scorpius stood up, zipping up his pants. "You lost that awhile ago," he said distractedly, looking around for his wand that had fallen out of his back pocket during their huge failure of a fuck. He momentarily wondered why he thought it was okay to be so mean, but quickly forgot the thought when he found his wand. She was just a girl. A slutty girl. She had slept with multiple people since they had broke up; she'd find somebody else in no time.

"Fuck you," she growled.

Scorpius snorted, pocketing his wand. "I'm afraid I just fucked _you, _Brandice. See you around."

She threw her shoe at him, which he managed to successfully dodge on his way out of the shower stall, deciding he could wait until the morning to have a real shower. "I hate you, Scorpius!" she screamed, sobbing. "I hate you!"

"Join the club," he muttered to himself as he exited the bathroom, putting his protective armor up as the guilt start to reach him. He was such an asshole.

...

"Good evening, Scorpius," Connolly said the next evening. "I'm glad you're here early."

Scorpius nearly snorted. He had arrived a minute before six; that did not really count as early. Nonetheless, he shrugged and set his bag down where he usually sat in class and meandered over to Connolly's desk. There were several papers everywhere, most of them regarding Potions, other regarding auror business. River worked Monday through Friday as a professor, but worked the weekends as an auror. "What do you need me to do, professor?" Scorpius asked, cutting to the point.

"I'm going to have you tutor one of my students... I wish I could do it myself, but I have so much shit–" River cleared his throat, looking sheepish. "Stuff to do. Auror business takes up most of my time and I have to make lesson plans. But the Weasleys hired me to tutor their daughter–"

"The Weasleys?" Scorpius interrupted, his stomach sinking, and if on cue, Rose Weasley walked into the classroom. She froze when she saw him standing there, muttered what had to be profanity under breath, and slammed her bag on the table.

"Are you serious, River?" she demanded, and Scorpius had to hold back a snicker.

River looked extremely tired. "Not tonight, Rose. Please. Cut me some slack here."

"You're making _him _tutor me?" she asked, jerking her thumb in Scorpius's direction, her cheeks flaming. Scorpius realized she was embarrassed that he was her tutor, and he relished in the fact. Oh, she was never going to hear the end of it and she knew it.

"Yes," River said. "Look, I have to go. There's a meeting in the headmistress's office." He must have seen the mischievous look on both their faces, because then he said, "If either of you leave, I'll fail you both. And, Rose, if your score on the next test isn't better, I will make sure that neither of you set foot on the Quidditch field for the rest of the year, whether that be to watch or to play." He glared at the both of them, obviously fucking done.

Scorpius let out a low whistle. "Well, Weasley... it looks like it's up to you here. We're screwed. Clearly."

"Fuck you, Malfoy. Fuck you. _Fuck. You,_" Rose said viciously, her cheeks still flaming, and River sighed as Scorpius stuck his tongue out at her childishly.

"You can leave at eight," he informed them, before gathering his things and leaving. Just as he was about to exit, he said, "I'll see you on Thursday, Scorpius. You'll only be tutoring on Tuesdays." God bless. "Have a nice evening." And finally, he left. Rose and Scorpius stared at each other. More like, Scorpius stared at her and Rose glared at him.

"Get on your knees and call me 'professor,'" Scorpius said, deadpan.

Rose groaned and flopped down in her seat, letting her head drop in her hands. Scorpius chuckled, going to join her, pulling his Potions book out his bag and setting it between them. He flipped open to the page with the material that they were currently studying. Rose had been watching him incredulously. "What are you doing?" she asked blankly.

Scorpius was taken aback. "Tutoring you...?"

Her shoulders slumped in relief, and Scorpius felt kind of bad that she actually thought he wasn't going to. "What did you think we were going to do, Weasley? Make out?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Obviously not," Rose said matter-of-factly, tilting her chin up slightly.

"Not up for it tonight?" Scorpius asked, nodding his head understandingly.

"Or ever," she snapped, and looked down at the Potions book, her red hair falling like a curtain between them. Suddenly, Scorpius wondered if she would if they were just strangers on the street. If he wasn't a Malfoy and she wasn't a Weasley, and they didn't have the loyalties they clung so strongly to. Would she see him and think he was attractive? Would she want to put the effort in getting to know him? Would he want to do the same for her? Or would they merely glance at each other and continue on with their lives? What if she did get to know him? Would she want him to stay around?

Scorpius was a boy that most girls didn't just say _no _to. Ever. Sure, he had been rejected before, but there was always some contemplation; a lip bite, a flush, a nervous eye roll and giggle. Rose went straight to the no. Girls never simply said no to Scorpius Malfoy without at least thinking about it.

"What are you looking at?" she said uneasily when she met his eyes again, and Scorpius mentally shook himself.

"Are you a virgin, Weasley?" Scorpius asked suddenly, wondering if the fact that she never had sex contributed to her reaction to his sarcastic flirting... or lack thereof.

Now Rose did flush, which pissed Scorpius off considering he hadn't been trying to make an advance. He was merely asking a question. "That's sexual harassment, you know," she informed him.

"What? A question? A conversation between friends?" Scorpius asked innocently, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Rose said seriously, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "The fact that you constantly are commenting on my looks, like how dull my hair looked the other day underneath the cloud cover. Asking me if I am a virgin. Or telling me to get on my knees. Or suggesting that we make out, when you know perfectly well that there is no way in hellI would ever even stand close enough to touch you." She was breathing heavily. "_That_ is sexual harassment. Don't think I don't hear about what you say in the hallways and what you do to girls, Scorpius. I know you antagonized Dominique about her sexual tendencies and her weight. I know that you fucked Brandice Brown in the bathroom last night and left her there, naked and crying."

Scorpius's eyebrows shot up. Word got around fast.

"I dislike her as much as the rest of the study body does, but that doesn't mean you can blatantly disrespect someone like that." She was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Scorpius could tell she'd been wanting to say this for a long time. "You've been through some pretty tough shit, I'll give you that, but it's not an excuse to treat anybody like less of a person. Honestly, the fact that your father died last spring should have proved that you're human, just like the rest of us. Albus may pity you for what happened this past summer, but I don't. I am sorry that it happened, and I wish it hadn't, but don't think that the fact that I'm sorry makes it okay for you to treat me or anyone else like your puppet."

Scorpius was quiet for moment, stunned. Then, he decided that he respected Rose Weasley a lot more than he thought possible. She was the first one out of teachers and students alike to comment directly on his father's death. Rose wasn't walking on eggshells around him – she practiced what she preached; even though she disliked him as a person, she didn't disrespect him or his family by not acknowledging his father's death. She might not see it that way, but Scorpius sure as hell did.

In another life, they could've been friends, Scorpius decided.

**A/N:**

**Yes. Scorpius is an asshole. Yes. Yes. Yes. I know. I know. I'm sorry. I hope you know I wasn't writing him out to be "badass" in this chapter. I was writing him out to be a player douchebag. It's all in the character development. It'll just contribute to the later stuff. No edits for this chapter.**

**Comments. Questions. Concerns. You know the drill.**

**Written,**

**Anonymous;)**


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